


Thesis

by orphan_account



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The year is 1994. Credence Barebone is no longer a Barebone. He's a Lestrange, with Bellatrix Lestrange as his 'aunt', and Rodolphus and Rebastian Lestrange as his 'uncles'.A very different Dark Lord uses Credence for his own gain. But what he doesn't anticipate is that this boy refuses to allow himself to be controlled.Harry Potter thinks that the new Gryffindor is a bit strange. Something dark lurks in the shadows of this boy, and Harry is determined to find out what.





	1. Only Human (After all)

It had been a dream come true when Credence had been taken away from Ma. He was fifteen, and already he could feel the darkness, the  _sin,_ clawing at his ribs. It got worse after a beating, but he didn't heal himself like he used to. Instead, he simply sat on the wooden slats of his bed and felt the rage thrum deep in his bones. So when Miss Bellatrix had come, all wild hair and wild eyes, and had told him he was a wizard, he secretly knew that she was lying. But he agreed, because she had just killed Ma and Chastity, and Modesty too. And when she asked (told) him to come with her, he simply quietly stood and nodded. 

That had been two months ago. And now he was sitting on a train, his knees tucked to his chest. After a hair-growth potion and his uncle Rabastian with some scissors, his hair was looking much nicer. At least, he thought it looked nicer. It was long, around his shoulders, and curly like Bellatrix's, but he ran a brush through it every now and again, unlike his aunt.

He had been extensively trained in dark magic, and gotten his own wand, devoid of what Bellatrix had called 'the Trace'. She'd taken him to somewhere called 'Knockturn Alley', and he had been "chosen" by a wand that Bellatrix seemed delighted with. Eleven and a half inches, Willow wood and Dragon Heartstring core, rather springy. Credence liked it simply because it was  _his,_ and no-one could take it from him. 

Bellatrix had said that he picked up spells with incredible quickness, and that he was already advanced for where she would have assumed he would be. Of course, that wasn't without it's issues. She forced him to duel almost every single day, except for the day she had caught him with a  _Crucio_ and he'd ended up unable to move for almost an hour after the curse was lifted. 

She had given him the day after that off but he wasn't stupid enough to think that she cared about him. No, it had been because she didn't want him to die. She needed him for some reason that she wouldn't disclose, and Credence wasn't very well going to ask, was he? 

Abruptly, Credence was dragged from his thoughts by the door to the compartment he'd taken sliding open. "Oh-!" Said an unfamiliar voice, and Credence lifted his head to glare from under the curtain of his hair. "Sorry, we thought this compartment would be empty. Do you mind if we sit?" The voice was female, and he pushed a lock of his hair out of the way to look at her properly. 

His shrug was taken as an agreement, because then the three of them were piling in. The girl and the dark-haired boy sat opposite him, while the redhead settled next to him. The girl, trying to include Credence in conversation, asked, "I don't think I've seen you before. What House are you in?"

Credence just looked at her, bewildered. What did that even mean?

Before he could say anything, the girl continued. "I'm Hermione, this is Ron, and that's Harry. Are you from a different school." 

He hesitated, and then gave a small nod. The girl smiled kindly at him. "Well, there's no need to worry. I'll explain."

And explain she did. Credence learnt more about Hogwarts (what a stupid name) in that short hour than the Lestrange's had taught him in two whole months.

"What's your name, by the way?" Asked the girl, Hermione, once she'd stopped her tirade.

"Um. Credence." He answered, voice very soft. "Credence Riddle." 

He didn't know where the last name came from, but he liked it anyway because it distanced him from Ma and her wicked ways.

"It's nice to meet you, Credence." 

"I hope you'll be in Gryffindor!" Said the redheaded boy enthusastically, and Credence nodded. 

That had been Bellatrix's instruction, too. Get into Gryffindor so that no-one would suspect his connection to someone she called 'the Dark Lord'. Credence had said he would do his best but he was never quite sure how his aunt would respond.

He was also to stay at the school for holidays, to give the impression he had nobody, and to check in with Professor Snape every weekend.

It was a tall order, but Credence was sure he could manage it. He'd done a series of tests that allowed him into the fifth year, ones that Rodolphus had encouraged him to cheat on. He'd passed with flying colors.

His newfound compartment friends tried to get him to play a game of exploding snap, and then, when he pulled out a book to read, left him alone.

But eight hours sitting still when Credence had never had to do so before in his life was taking a toll, and it was a relief when he felt it begin to slow down. 

The three people quickly departed and Credence was left floundering, but was quickly found by a Professor with a hooked nose and jet black eyes who told him to come with him quickly. 

The man who must have been Snape led him up to the castle quickly, and before he could do anything, he was forced onto a small stool and a hat was shoved over his head.

 _Well, well, what do we have here? You're much older than most minds I see._ said a small, silky voice in his ear. He gripped the sides of the stool so hard he was sure the wood would snap right off in his hands.  _Hm... I see strength in you, courage too. And loyalty. But where to put you?_

From what he'd heard, any of the houses sounded pretty good. Just getting to belong somewhere would be just fine by him. He pushed the idea of Gryffindor anyway.

_If you're sure, then it had better be_

"GRYFFINDOR!" 

Well...

That was one less worry on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for Credence's wand: 
> 
> "Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow." 
> 
> "As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental."


	2. All The Rowboats (In The Oil Paintings)

The Welcoming Feast is...

Well. It's a lot. It's too much.

Credence sits on his own during the Sorting, his hands tucked under his thighs and his head bowed, hair falling over his eyes in messy waves. 

He can feel eyes on him through the entire thing, but they leave when the woman in pink starts to talk. It's a relief.

He's used to ignoring people talking, so tuning out the pink woman is easy enough. 

And then the entire hall erupts into noise as the food appears, and he startles like a frightened animal, feeling the dark sin in his chest claw and writhe, trying to break free.

 It doesn't. He has more control than that. But it's a close thing. 

He only takes food from the plates closest to him, a few vegetables, some potatoes, and the smallest amount of meat. He barely eats half of what he'd given himself, and the weight of the sin of gluttony sits heavy on his shoulders. 

He hadn't seen Ma in two months, but habits fourteen years in the making are impossible to free himself from. Gluttony is punished, so Credence doesn't allow himself to eat more than a few mouthfuls at a time. 

(He's going to Hell anyway, Ma made that very clear, so he isn't sure why he tries.)

"Aren't you gonna eat more than that, mate?" Asks a redheaded boy, older than him. 

Credence shakes his head and ducks behind his hair shyly. The boy seems to get the message and leaves him alone.

It's a relief and upsetting at the same time but he doesn't dwell on it. He has worse things to consider.

Like the fact that the people he'd sat on the train with are staring at him. It's horrible and the sin in his chest stirs, screeches, claws at his ribcage. But he ignores it. He ignores it because he's good at that, and when the food in front of him disappears, it's a relief. 

It's replaced with deserts of all kinds, and Credence wants to die then and there. 


End file.
